Post by Charlie Tanner on Jan 14, 2009 17:12:33 GMT -5
-Character Application-
Character's Name: Charlene (Charlie) Renee Tanner
Age: 18
Residence: House
Species (human, vampire, ritualistic witch, "chosen" witch, shape shifter, other): Chosen Witch
Special power (for "chosen" witches only, if known at time of application):control over fire element though very limited and still no where near mastered. Because of her ability to hold and control fire, she has a fast healing rate, so her skin wont burn.
Biography (Including 15 detailed bulleted points of traits and/or a few detailed paragraphs describing your character. The more information, the better. This will serve as your character profile):
Charlie grew up in Syracuse New york, her mother worked as a CSI and her father was a photographer. Her uncle Mark, age 26, was the most distant person in the family and her mothers brother. There was something about Mark that always made Charlie interested but she never said anything, instead she rather stay quiet and observe instead. Her hair was an interesting shade of red when she was born however when she was old enough she recalled it had lost its color. It was a blonde now, and honestly Charlie didn;t mind, her hair always caught attention from others, now she felt she would fit in.
When she turned 18 she changed. She lived in Portland with her uncle until the change happened, her life changing experience causing her to flee back home. She needed her mother, or at least the comfort of her hometown. When she got on the plane, it took her to the nearest airport to vermont and she got lost. She stayed in a town overnight and in the store she over heard the tail of crocker turn. To her, it seemed the best place to go right now, somewhere away from the judgemental world.
As long as no one went there, it was good enough for her to just go looking for the woods. And that's what she did. She headed into the woods, further and further. Now, Charlie doesn't really keep contact with anyone. Instead, she'd rather live here in a place more familiar. Though her power over the element of fire was still weak, she realized if a fire was already started, she could capture or control the flame. Starting it on her own, she still hadn;t mastered.
Her personality is caring but stubborn, she's a very loyal friend, but it's trusting someone that blocks her ability to MAKE them. She loves to read, and the piano was always her favorite instrument of music. She has money since she grew up the last four years practically on her own with a job at a young age.
Sample (A scene with 4+ replies. If you have never role played before, please write a narrative of 2 - 4 paragraphs including dialogue):
There’s a reason for everything. That’s what my father always told me. So there must be a reason for every happen stance that follows you throughout your life, right? It lands you a trip through the impossible. That’s all I believe. You can’t fight fate, apparently. Which is how I’m stuck in an airport heading for my uncle Marks. This is how I break down life. It’s a time you have to figure out what you’re doing, and what is going to happen. This usually includes the awkward stages called growing up. Being eighteen never meant much to me. I was perfectly content staying seventeen forever. What’s the point in growing up? Voting, smoking, being of age to do things that are meaningless since you have to be twenty-one to do everything else in the world besides be put into office for a government job. That just didn’t sound interesting to me. No, I want to do something else with my time on this planet everyone calls earth. Even if I don’t know what that is yet.
I can see the faces around me as I push my way through the now crowded terminal, clinging to my oversized raincoat that my mother convinced me to wear, predicting a storm when I would arrive in Oregon. The elderly lady from ahead of me said something under her breath as I pushed my way passed her to get closer to the door to my plane, and the young man, maybe in his early twenties, from the front of the group saying something unintelligible as he moved out of my way.
The plane feels like an endless pit of odd colored seats as I try to push my way through the small pathway towards the back. The sound of unhappy passengers filled my ears as I finally settled into my seat two rows to the back. I was sitting in the isle seat, which meant I needed to be extra careful. Those flight attendants could never steer those beverage carts correctly and I usually walked off planes with bruised elbows.
It was a long flight. Thankfully I had fallen asleep in the first twenty minutes, however I wish I had been tired earlier. I really dislike take-off. The feeling of your insides being pushed to the back of your body really was unnerving. Like that feeling you get when you’re at a theme park, on those roller coasters that look like something from a video game; the design resembling that of something a reckless teenager would create.
I didn’t realize how lost in my own thoughts I was, because as soon as the buzzing around me began to speed up I was already in front of the small airport. It was drizzling, just like my mother had predicted, though I’d hardly call this a storm. Oregon was known for its constant lack of dry weather but that didn’t mean I was going to walk right into a storm. Or so I thought.
The time passing felt like hours, when it was maybe a few minutes. My sneakers soaked through. Making sloshing sounds as I shifted my weight with anxiety. The cold, soaking wetness I felt around my shoes didn’t make better for my shivering as I held my coat closer to me.
“Charlene?” My eyes turned to slits, gazing through the haze to see who called my name.
That’s when I noticed him.
Who could forget the awkward, and mysterious look to Mark? It wasn’t possible. Even at the age of twenty-six my uncle looked like he could pull off as my brother. Brown hair that was slightly curly to his cream-colored skin and thin figure. Mark could pull off as a high school student. I forced a smile as best I could. "Hi, Mark."
Mark pulled me into an awkward, one-armed hug, which I could have lived without. He was never one for small talk; it surprised me when he stood back and tucked his hands into his pockets and spoke.
“So, how was the flight? Was it okay? Bumpy? Did you want to grab your luggage from baggage claim, or maybe coffee? Do you even drink coffee?” He began to throw together. This made me chuckle. Something from his rambled questions made me think after a moment. Baggage claim. I had forgotten about that. "I forgot to get my suitcase." I admitted sheepishly. I thought I would leave out my trip on the plane, since I had fallen asleep anyway till landing. It’s not like there would be much to tell. Planes were large, crowded and sweaty. Like riding a large bus that flies, apart from the beverage carts. I don’t think I’d ever ride a bus again if that were the case. It was experience enough just flying on a plane. "Mary doesn't let me drink caffeine." I added after a moment, hoping he didn’t notice my distantness.
"Oh, right, no caffeine then, got it." Mark nodded; shifting on his heals a bit. "So uh...this is sufficiently awkward.”
"Just a bit." I smiled, even though it didn't reach my eyes. "I should probably go grab my suitcase before it lands itself in lost and found."
"Oh, right, that would probably be good.”
I followed Mark and small groups of people back into the airport, pushing our way to baggage claim seven. We stood there in almost awkward silence as I watched the other passengers, which were now fewer than there would have been if I had come here first thing. All of us were grouped around the baggage carousel, waiting for the marked bags to come around. I spotted my plain black suitcase with a sticker over the front pocket with Scooby-doo on it and quickly stepped forward pulling it off before it could go around again.
I really never understood the purpose of the luggage carousel. Some people had to stand there a good few rounds just to find or grab their luggage. Setting my suitcase on the slick, wet tile floor of the airport, I turned to Mark. "Got it."
"Good, wow, that's all you brought? Ok, well I guess that's good; want to get out of here? Airports aren't really that great; lots of…people. God you're tall." He said as he stared at me with a look of mild shock.
“I haven’t grown that much over the past two years...” I shifted my weight as me and Mark pushed through the crowded airport towards the front entrance. My bag was bumping lightly against my side as a small rush of air from the automatic sliding doors whooshed around me, swirling my hair around my face as I hugged my blazer closer to my body with my free arm. The weather had picked up, and was now coming down in large dumped of rain. I couldn’t tell what my face looked like to the onlooker. Maybe a mixture of distaste and constipation. My eyes were squinting, my lips pressed tightly together as I stopped at the curb of the sidewalk. “Where did you park?”
"Second story, row C, it was the closest I could get, do you want me to take your bag?"
"I got it."
"Ok." Mark nodded.
I stood there, looked slightly out of place as I looked in all directions. "I don't know where we're going."
"Just go straight until you see green PT Cruiser."
When we reached the car, I stood awkwardly at the passenger side of his green PT Cruiser. My suitcase now safely tucked into his back seat as I waited for him to go around the other side and get in. It took me a moment to realize he was staring at me with a confused expression. "What?"
"Are you going to get in?" Mark asked with concern showing in his dark eyes. I must look very ridiculous right now. Standing outside the car door while he was sitting in the drivers seat with an odd look. He must think his sister raised a mental case. Without another thought, I pulled the Cruiser door open and slide myself in, shutting the door with an almost happy sigh. I was glad to be out of the rain.
"So um if you're hungry we can stop and get something, but if you're not we can go to the house."
I suddenly realized how hungry I was. The flight wasn't really that long, but since I had fallen asleep I hadn't eaten anything. “What’s there to eat?”
“Fast food?” It was around ten-thirty at night. What was I going to expect. Though the thought of food, even as my stomach grumbled in anticipation, made me feel nauseated. Perhaps I just wouldn’t eat tonight. I should get settled in before I even let myself down organic food elements. “I think I should just settle in, you know, wait till tomorrow? I ate a bunch of peanuts on the plane anyway.” I lied. However I didn’t want to worry Mark anymore that I probably was. Besides, he probably thought I was a mental case anyway. Must run in the family.
“Oh, okay…”
The rest of the car ride to Mark’s place was quiet. It was almost awkward silence but it was good enough for me. Talking wasn’t something I did much, especially within the family. Mark wasn’t much of a talker to begin with. I remember one year my parents and I had a family holiday. Mark came to visit us in Syracuse; he stayed two days. It’s not like our whole family was socially challenged. My mom Mary worked for the crime scene investigational unit so she interacted a lot within her department. As for my dad, well he was a photographer.
That’s how my parents met. My dad, Evan, was taking photos at the Amphitheatre in Thornden Park during the night parade. Mary was caught off guard when the flash of his camera had gone off while riding her bike across the grass with her friend Roger. According to my mother, when dad knelt next to her to see if she was okay, it was love at first sight. They were inseparable ever since. It wasn’t a fairytale beginning though. My grandparents, Mary’s parents, didn’t approve of her falling in love with such a man so young, especially a starting out photographer who was anything but high class. Mark, however, saw how happy she was. He was the most supportive. I believe I was born a while later. My grandparents seemed to mellow after I was conceived because they were more family orientated after that. My parents got married in a clearing, or a meadow or something. My parents exact words when they relived the memory of their wedding day, was it was magical.
When dad disappeared two years ago, my mom wasn’t the same. She engaged herself in her work, taking any means possible to do something besides sit in stillness. I could tell it was hard for her. Her mind was on over-drive; she got called in almost everyday, sometimes in the middle of the night. Living at home for me after that was like having my own place. I took the bus to school, I cooked my own food, and I rode my bike to the town when I needed something at the store. I even got a job at the local bookstore in town just so I could pass the time; the quiet was deafening and I needed to stay sane. My mother began to realize, as time rolled by, that we were becoming separate entities. I hardly knew who she was anymore, and I think it scared her. Two years, had gone by, and she hardly noticed. I guess that’s how I ended up here in Portland. Mom didn’t think it was healthy, the way we were living; especially with her new case. I guess in a way, I understand why she does it. Sometimes…it seems like she’s trying to find him. Like how she never turns down a case. It’s like she’s trying…no…hoping, that it will lead her to him. That’s where we both shared our inner emotional battle. We wanted answers.
When we pulled up into the driveway, I couldn’t help but catch the glimpse of Mark’s facial expression. His eyes held his concern, and his confusion, even though he was trying to smile. The house was bigger than I expected it to be, for Mark anyway. He lived by himself, a writer. I never took time to read anything he'd ever written though. The rain didn't ease up. The sky poured buckets of the dirty, sucked up liquid down over the town as Mark shoved the key into the lock. My hands holding my suitcase to my chest as I tried to keep sheltered under the porch.
"So this is it," Mark said, pushing the door open to reveal a very small entryway. It was plain. Ordinary cream colored walls, a stairway, a kitchen, and living room; which is all I could see from where I stood. It wasn’t all that different in comparison to my home back in Syracuse. "There's a guest room, second door to the left upstairs, I can show you, here." He ushered me inside, shutting the door; the immediate change in temperature was welcomed. I followed him up the short flight of stairs. This wall was almost different shade of color compared to the entryway. It could have just been the lighting.
My feet padded along the wooden floorboards. Suitcase clutched in a death grip to my chest as my eyes lingered aimlessly on the creamy texture of the walls. We stopped in front of the second door on the right; a plain grain textured door leading into a fairly good-sized bedroom.
“Do you need anything else…I could make you some tea, or something?”
“I’m fine, Mark, really.” I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Mark. He was trying to be helpful when all I really wanted was to be alone and scream my head off. Sure, he was taking me in, doing my mother a favor. However I felt trapped. Like I didn’t have a choice. I’d make the best of it though, even if that meant wallowing in my free time, and doing all I could to survive the dreadful town of Portland. “Thank you.”
“If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”
My fingers were numb, as I heard the door of my new bedroom close with an echoing only I could hear; my suitcase still in a death grip to my chest. I forced my legs to move as a sigh escaped my lips. There was a closet, a dresser, and a fairly good-sized bed with a blue down blanket that fitted around me nicely as I dropped to the bed, letting my mangled suitcase slide to the floor by my dangling feet. There was a window next to my bed, which was covered by light-blue horizontal blinds. They almost looked faded in the dim light of the bedroom. I can almost imagine the stars if I gazed out like back home. I remember dad and I would lie out back in pitch-black night, and look up at the stars. They were bright, and beautiful, each one unique. Just like us. My dad once said that when he died he wanted to become a star, so that he could light the darkness and shine down upon the worlds of the universe. He had an interesting and unique insight of life. I believe that’s what made him so likable. If you asked just about anyone to describe Evan Tanner in one word, it would be flamboyant, because when he was in a group of people he was the colorful ink to their empty canvas. His personality was kind but alluring. Dad made everyone’s lips curve into a smile, made every heart beat skip…he was the heart and soul of people. He showed it through his photographs. He captured the spirit of life, the beauty that gets hidden beneath the cloud of gray hemorrhaging across the planet catching the glimpses of light through the darkness. He was angelic.
I missed him.
I can feel my breath constrict in my lungs. Remember to breathe, I tell myself over and over again. I pushed myself back as far as I could until my head hit the soft pillows of the bed. The pattering of the rain against the window began to echo all to loud within the room and I closed my eyes, trying to drown myself in the remembrance of the summers of Syracuse.
Image (If your character is a shape shifter please provide the animal's image as well.):
Celebrity used: Alexz Johnson
Character's Name: Charlene (Charlie) Renee Tanner
Age: 18
Residence: House
Species (human, vampire, ritualistic witch, "chosen" witch, shape shifter, other): Chosen Witch
Special power (for "chosen" witches only, if known at time of application):control over fire element though very limited and still no where near mastered. Because of her ability to hold and control fire, she has a fast healing rate, so her skin wont burn.
Biography (Including 15 detailed bulleted points of traits and/or a few detailed paragraphs describing your character. The more information, the better. This will serve as your character profile):
Charlie grew up in Syracuse New york, her mother worked as a CSI and her father was a photographer. Her uncle Mark, age 26, was the most distant person in the family and her mothers brother. There was something about Mark that always made Charlie interested but she never said anything, instead she rather stay quiet and observe instead. Her hair was an interesting shade of red when she was born however when she was old enough she recalled it had lost its color. It was a blonde now, and honestly Charlie didn;t mind, her hair always caught attention from others, now she felt she would fit in.
When she turned 18 she changed. She lived in Portland with her uncle until the change happened, her life changing experience causing her to flee back home. She needed her mother, or at least the comfort of her hometown. When she got on the plane, it took her to the nearest airport to vermont and she got lost. She stayed in a town overnight and in the store she over heard the tail of crocker turn. To her, it seemed the best place to go right now, somewhere away from the judgemental world.
As long as no one went there, it was good enough for her to just go looking for the woods. And that's what she did. She headed into the woods, further and further. Now, Charlie doesn't really keep contact with anyone. Instead, she'd rather live here in a place more familiar. Though her power over the element of fire was still weak, she realized if a fire was already started, she could capture or control the flame. Starting it on her own, she still hadn;t mastered.
Her personality is caring but stubborn, she's a very loyal friend, but it's trusting someone that blocks her ability to MAKE them. She loves to read, and the piano was always her favorite instrument of music. She has money since she grew up the last four years practically on her own with a job at a young age.
Sample (A scene with 4+ replies. If you have never role played before, please write a narrative of 2 - 4 paragraphs including dialogue):
There’s a reason for everything. That’s what my father always told me. So there must be a reason for every happen stance that follows you throughout your life, right? It lands you a trip through the impossible. That’s all I believe. You can’t fight fate, apparently. Which is how I’m stuck in an airport heading for my uncle Marks. This is how I break down life. It’s a time you have to figure out what you’re doing, and what is going to happen. This usually includes the awkward stages called growing up. Being eighteen never meant much to me. I was perfectly content staying seventeen forever. What’s the point in growing up? Voting, smoking, being of age to do things that are meaningless since you have to be twenty-one to do everything else in the world besides be put into office for a government job. That just didn’t sound interesting to me. No, I want to do something else with my time on this planet everyone calls earth. Even if I don’t know what that is yet.
I can see the faces around me as I push my way through the now crowded terminal, clinging to my oversized raincoat that my mother convinced me to wear, predicting a storm when I would arrive in Oregon. The elderly lady from ahead of me said something under her breath as I pushed my way passed her to get closer to the door to my plane, and the young man, maybe in his early twenties, from the front of the group saying something unintelligible as he moved out of my way.
The plane feels like an endless pit of odd colored seats as I try to push my way through the small pathway towards the back. The sound of unhappy passengers filled my ears as I finally settled into my seat two rows to the back. I was sitting in the isle seat, which meant I needed to be extra careful. Those flight attendants could never steer those beverage carts correctly and I usually walked off planes with bruised elbows.
It was a long flight. Thankfully I had fallen asleep in the first twenty minutes, however I wish I had been tired earlier. I really dislike take-off. The feeling of your insides being pushed to the back of your body really was unnerving. Like that feeling you get when you’re at a theme park, on those roller coasters that look like something from a video game; the design resembling that of something a reckless teenager would create.
I didn’t realize how lost in my own thoughts I was, because as soon as the buzzing around me began to speed up I was already in front of the small airport. It was drizzling, just like my mother had predicted, though I’d hardly call this a storm. Oregon was known for its constant lack of dry weather but that didn’t mean I was going to walk right into a storm. Or so I thought.
The time passing felt like hours, when it was maybe a few minutes. My sneakers soaked through. Making sloshing sounds as I shifted my weight with anxiety. The cold, soaking wetness I felt around my shoes didn’t make better for my shivering as I held my coat closer to me.
“Charlene?” My eyes turned to slits, gazing through the haze to see who called my name.
That’s when I noticed him.
Who could forget the awkward, and mysterious look to Mark? It wasn’t possible. Even at the age of twenty-six my uncle looked like he could pull off as my brother. Brown hair that was slightly curly to his cream-colored skin and thin figure. Mark could pull off as a high school student. I forced a smile as best I could. "Hi, Mark."
Mark pulled me into an awkward, one-armed hug, which I could have lived without. He was never one for small talk; it surprised me when he stood back and tucked his hands into his pockets and spoke.
“So, how was the flight? Was it okay? Bumpy? Did you want to grab your luggage from baggage claim, or maybe coffee? Do you even drink coffee?” He began to throw together. This made me chuckle. Something from his rambled questions made me think after a moment. Baggage claim. I had forgotten about that. "I forgot to get my suitcase." I admitted sheepishly. I thought I would leave out my trip on the plane, since I had fallen asleep anyway till landing. It’s not like there would be much to tell. Planes were large, crowded and sweaty. Like riding a large bus that flies, apart from the beverage carts. I don’t think I’d ever ride a bus again if that were the case. It was experience enough just flying on a plane. "Mary doesn't let me drink caffeine." I added after a moment, hoping he didn’t notice my distantness.
"Oh, right, no caffeine then, got it." Mark nodded; shifting on his heals a bit. "So uh...this is sufficiently awkward.”
"Just a bit." I smiled, even though it didn't reach my eyes. "I should probably go grab my suitcase before it lands itself in lost and found."
"Oh, right, that would probably be good.”
I followed Mark and small groups of people back into the airport, pushing our way to baggage claim seven. We stood there in almost awkward silence as I watched the other passengers, which were now fewer than there would have been if I had come here first thing. All of us were grouped around the baggage carousel, waiting for the marked bags to come around. I spotted my plain black suitcase with a sticker over the front pocket with Scooby-doo on it and quickly stepped forward pulling it off before it could go around again.
I really never understood the purpose of the luggage carousel. Some people had to stand there a good few rounds just to find or grab their luggage. Setting my suitcase on the slick, wet tile floor of the airport, I turned to Mark. "Got it."
"Good, wow, that's all you brought? Ok, well I guess that's good; want to get out of here? Airports aren't really that great; lots of…people. God you're tall." He said as he stared at me with a look of mild shock.
“I haven’t grown that much over the past two years...” I shifted my weight as me and Mark pushed through the crowded airport towards the front entrance. My bag was bumping lightly against my side as a small rush of air from the automatic sliding doors whooshed around me, swirling my hair around my face as I hugged my blazer closer to my body with my free arm. The weather had picked up, and was now coming down in large dumped of rain. I couldn’t tell what my face looked like to the onlooker. Maybe a mixture of distaste and constipation. My eyes were squinting, my lips pressed tightly together as I stopped at the curb of the sidewalk. “Where did you park?”
"Second story, row C, it was the closest I could get, do you want me to take your bag?"
"I got it."
"Ok." Mark nodded.
I stood there, looked slightly out of place as I looked in all directions. "I don't know where we're going."
"Just go straight until you see green PT Cruiser."
When we reached the car, I stood awkwardly at the passenger side of his green PT Cruiser. My suitcase now safely tucked into his back seat as I waited for him to go around the other side and get in. It took me a moment to realize he was staring at me with a confused expression. "What?"
"Are you going to get in?" Mark asked with concern showing in his dark eyes. I must look very ridiculous right now. Standing outside the car door while he was sitting in the drivers seat with an odd look. He must think his sister raised a mental case. Without another thought, I pulled the Cruiser door open and slide myself in, shutting the door with an almost happy sigh. I was glad to be out of the rain.
"So um if you're hungry we can stop and get something, but if you're not we can go to the house."
I suddenly realized how hungry I was. The flight wasn't really that long, but since I had fallen asleep I hadn't eaten anything. “What’s there to eat?”
“Fast food?” It was around ten-thirty at night. What was I going to expect. Though the thought of food, even as my stomach grumbled in anticipation, made me feel nauseated. Perhaps I just wouldn’t eat tonight. I should get settled in before I even let myself down organic food elements. “I think I should just settle in, you know, wait till tomorrow? I ate a bunch of peanuts on the plane anyway.” I lied. However I didn’t want to worry Mark anymore that I probably was. Besides, he probably thought I was a mental case anyway. Must run in the family.
“Oh, okay…”
The rest of the car ride to Mark’s place was quiet. It was almost awkward silence but it was good enough for me. Talking wasn’t something I did much, especially within the family. Mark wasn’t much of a talker to begin with. I remember one year my parents and I had a family holiday. Mark came to visit us in Syracuse; he stayed two days. It’s not like our whole family was socially challenged. My mom Mary worked for the crime scene investigational unit so she interacted a lot within her department. As for my dad, well he was a photographer.
That’s how my parents met. My dad, Evan, was taking photos at the Amphitheatre in Thornden Park during the night parade. Mary was caught off guard when the flash of his camera had gone off while riding her bike across the grass with her friend Roger. According to my mother, when dad knelt next to her to see if she was okay, it was love at first sight. They were inseparable ever since. It wasn’t a fairytale beginning though. My grandparents, Mary’s parents, didn’t approve of her falling in love with such a man so young, especially a starting out photographer who was anything but high class. Mark, however, saw how happy she was. He was the most supportive. I believe I was born a while later. My grandparents seemed to mellow after I was conceived because they were more family orientated after that. My parents got married in a clearing, or a meadow or something. My parents exact words when they relived the memory of their wedding day, was it was magical.
When dad disappeared two years ago, my mom wasn’t the same. She engaged herself in her work, taking any means possible to do something besides sit in stillness. I could tell it was hard for her. Her mind was on over-drive; she got called in almost everyday, sometimes in the middle of the night. Living at home for me after that was like having my own place. I took the bus to school, I cooked my own food, and I rode my bike to the town when I needed something at the store. I even got a job at the local bookstore in town just so I could pass the time; the quiet was deafening and I needed to stay sane. My mother began to realize, as time rolled by, that we were becoming separate entities. I hardly knew who she was anymore, and I think it scared her. Two years, had gone by, and she hardly noticed. I guess that’s how I ended up here in Portland. Mom didn’t think it was healthy, the way we were living; especially with her new case. I guess in a way, I understand why she does it. Sometimes…it seems like she’s trying to find him. Like how she never turns down a case. It’s like she’s trying…no…hoping, that it will lead her to him. That’s where we both shared our inner emotional battle. We wanted answers.
When we pulled up into the driveway, I couldn’t help but catch the glimpse of Mark’s facial expression. His eyes held his concern, and his confusion, even though he was trying to smile. The house was bigger than I expected it to be, for Mark anyway. He lived by himself, a writer. I never took time to read anything he'd ever written though. The rain didn't ease up. The sky poured buckets of the dirty, sucked up liquid down over the town as Mark shoved the key into the lock. My hands holding my suitcase to my chest as I tried to keep sheltered under the porch.
"So this is it," Mark said, pushing the door open to reveal a very small entryway. It was plain. Ordinary cream colored walls, a stairway, a kitchen, and living room; which is all I could see from where I stood. It wasn’t all that different in comparison to my home back in Syracuse. "There's a guest room, second door to the left upstairs, I can show you, here." He ushered me inside, shutting the door; the immediate change in temperature was welcomed. I followed him up the short flight of stairs. This wall was almost different shade of color compared to the entryway. It could have just been the lighting.
My feet padded along the wooden floorboards. Suitcase clutched in a death grip to my chest as my eyes lingered aimlessly on the creamy texture of the walls. We stopped in front of the second door on the right; a plain grain textured door leading into a fairly good-sized bedroom.
“Do you need anything else…I could make you some tea, or something?”
“I’m fine, Mark, really.” I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Mark. He was trying to be helpful when all I really wanted was to be alone and scream my head off. Sure, he was taking me in, doing my mother a favor. However I felt trapped. Like I didn’t have a choice. I’d make the best of it though, even if that meant wallowing in my free time, and doing all I could to survive the dreadful town of Portland. “Thank you.”
“If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”
My fingers were numb, as I heard the door of my new bedroom close with an echoing only I could hear; my suitcase still in a death grip to my chest. I forced my legs to move as a sigh escaped my lips. There was a closet, a dresser, and a fairly good-sized bed with a blue down blanket that fitted around me nicely as I dropped to the bed, letting my mangled suitcase slide to the floor by my dangling feet. There was a window next to my bed, which was covered by light-blue horizontal blinds. They almost looked faded in the dim light of the bedroom. I can almost imagine the stars if I gazed out like back home. I remember dad and I would lie out back in pitch-black night, and look up at the stars. They were bright, and beautiful, each one unique. Just like us. My dad once said that when he died he wanted to become a star, so that he could light the darkness and shine down upon the worlds of the universe. He had an interesting and unique insight of life. I believe that’s what made him so likable. If you asked just about anyone to describe Evan Tanner in one word, it would be flamboyant, because when he was in a group of people he was the colorful ink to their empty canvas. His personality was kind but alluring. Dad made everyone’s lips curve into a smile, made every heart beat skip…he was the heart and soul of people. He showed it through his photographs. He captured the spirit of life, the beauty that gets hidden beneath the cloud of gray hemorrhaging across the planet catching the glimpses of light through the darkness. He was angelic.
I missed him.
I can feel my breath constrict in my lungs. Remember to breathe, I tell myself over and over again. I pushed myself back as far as I could until my head hit the soft pillows of the bed. The pattering of the rain against the window began to echo all to loud within the room and I closed my eyes, trying to drown myself in the remembrance of the summers of Syracuse.
Image (If your character is a shape shifter please provide the animal's image as well.):
Celebrity used: Alexz Johnson